


Beaten

by maybealittlesugoi



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybealittlesugoi/pseuds/maybealittlesugoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin shows up to work bruised and swollen, and Michael demands to know what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beaten

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to put "Graphic Depictions of Violence" in the warnings because even though there is a fight scene in here, I wrote this a long time ago and I honestly can't remember how bad it was. If that's something that triggers you, read at your own risk.

                Michael, Geoff, Jack, and Ray all casually looked up from their work to greet Gavin as he walked through the office doors, but they all gasped when they saw him. He was limping on his left leg, both of his eyes were blackened, his lower lip was split and swollen, his nose was badly broken, and his neck, face, and hands were covered in dark bruises and deep cuts. He was wearing long sleeves and pants, but if Michael had to guess, his arms and legs would be just as bad.

                “Gavin, what the hell happened to you?” Michael stood up and stepped over to Gavin, but the Brit just pushed him out of the way and sat down without a word. Michael stood there speechless and motionless for a while, his back to everyone but Gavin.

                He finally stepped forward and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Gav…”

                “Ow! That bloody hurts, Micool!” Gavin’s voice was low and hoarse, as if something was very wrong with his throat. He shrugged away from the touch and made a show of turning his headphone volume up, which Michael assumed meant he really didn’t want to be bothered.

                Everyone reluctantly went back to work, but Michael couldn’t concentrate. Every few minutes he’d look up at Gavin, and he’d see him wince in pain every time he typed with his sore fingers, tears occasionally swelling at the base of his eyes, threatening to fall down his black and purple cheeks, but refusing to look away from the monitor or say a word the entire time.

                Ryan had been late that day, and when he finally arrived at work, he froze when he entered the Achievement Hunter office. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see Gavin, but he could obviously tell something was  _off._  Everyone was quieter than usual; nobody was talking, or joking around, or wrestling on the floor. There was just dead silence.

                “What’s… What’s going on? Did somebody die?” Nobody said a word, but everybody immediately looked over to Gavin, who was now trembling. Michael guessed he could feel the intense stares burning into the back of his head, because with every passing second, the poor man looked more and more as if he was trying to implode in on himself. Ryan looked over too, but from the back, none of his injuries were clearly visible. “Gavin? You alright buddy?”

                Gavin violently threw his headphones down on his keyboard, and spun around in his chair. Ryan’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw the cuts and bruises. “No, nobody bloody died!” He yelled, clearly trying to sound angry and blunt, but more than anything he sounded  _broken_. He sounded winded after just the one sentence, and he was obviously holding back tears. He clenched his fists, only to realize it caused him excruciating pain to do so, and stormed out of the office. Michael didn’t hesitate to walk out after him.

                “Gavin?” When the Brit kept walking without looking back, Michael called out louder. “Gavin!” He ran to catch up, and stood in front of him, blocking his path.

                “Leave me alone, Micool.” Gavin was looking down in an effort to hide his face. His yelling had opened up the majority of the cuts on his cheeks and around his jaw line, which were now causing streams of crimson to trickle down his face and collarbone, staining the neckline his shirt. When he attempted to step around Michael, the redhead placed a hand on the side of his upper arm, gently so as not to hurt him. “I said-”

                “I heard what you said. But I’m not letting you leave here without an explanation. What happened to you?”

                “I fell down the stairs last night. Now let me go.” He tried again to step around his friend, but again failed.

                “You and I both know that’s bullshit, Gavin.  _Who the fuck did this to you?”_

                Michael suspected that if anyone else had been around, Gavin would have continued resisting, but right now they were the only two in the hallway, and Gavin broke down. He burst into sobs, and latched his arms around Michael, planting his face on his shoulder. “Micool, it was awful. I went to the bar last night, and these three drunk tossers came up to me and started calling me queer and saying I shouldn’t show my face in public, that I should just go home and cry to my mum. I told them to minge off, but then they just started wailing on me. One of them took out a knife and starting cutting up my arms and face, they choked me, kicked me, anything they could do to hurt me. Nobody else did anything; they all just formed a circle around us. I’m pretty sure I saw a few people with their phones out  _recording it.”_  Michael didn’t know what to say. He wrapped his arms around Gavin, trying his best to be gentle, but he did feel the boy wince at his touch. “After a while, they just left me there bleeding on the floor. The bartender insisted on calling an ambulance, but I told him I was fine. He did cover my drinks for me, and called a cab. I think he felt bad about not doing anything to stop them.” He continued to speak, but his words became more and more muffled until they were entirely inaudible as he cried into Michael’s shoulder.

~

                Gavin cringed when the disinfectant touched his cuts. “Don’t worry buddy, it’ll be over soon,” Michael reassured. He’d insisted on taking Gavin home with him so he could properly treat the injuries. It took over an hour to clean, disinfect, and bandage all of the wounds, Gavin occasionally squealing, and Michael constantly apologizing for putting too much pressure on sore areas. Of course, Gavin couldn’t see what was going on. He was holding a bag of ice over his blackened eyes.

                “Gav, do you know who those guys were?” Michael sounded reluctant to ask the question, but he felt it was necessary to ask.

                “No. I mean, I’ve seen them ‘round before, but they don’t usually cause trouble.”

                “Can you describe them for me?”

~

                “Micool, you don’t have to do this, you-”

                “Gavin, NO.” Michael didn’t let him finish his sentence. “This is happening.” Gavin sighed. The rest of the drive was silent as Gavin stared out the window.

                It was only about five minutes before they arrived at the bar. Michael parked at the back of the lot, and as they walked in, Gavin had to wrap his arm around Michael’s shoulders and lean on him to avoid putting weight on his injured leg.

                When they got inside, everyone was staring at Gavin and exchanging murmured whispers for one reason or another

                 _“Oh my god, what happened to him?”_

_“Are they a couple?”_

_“I think that’s the guy that was here last night…”_

_“I thought he died.”_

                “Gavin, is that them over there?” Michael pointed to a booth towards the back of the room where three men were chugging mugs of beer. The first of them was bald, but had a long gnarly black beard with food crumbs stuck in it. The second was probably the drunkest of all of them; every time he looked up from his mug to take a breath, his head bobbed back and forth. He had a thin line of a beard that wrapped around his chin, and he looked like an overgrown high school student, especially with his hair gelled up in a ridge across the middle of his head. The last was by far the shortest of them, but also the most muscular. He was wearing a V-neck shirt which was way too small for him, as well as a pair of sunglasses and a gold chain. He had tattoo sleeves up both of his arms, and the hand he wasn’t using to hold a drink was clenched into a fist which sat on the table at arm’s length.

                Gavin nodded. “Yeah, that’s them.” Michael told Gavin to sit down somewhere, and then walked over to them

                “Hey! You the assholes that beat up my friend back there?” He was much louder than he’d intended to be, and soon enough the whole bar was staring.

                “You mean that British faggot you came in with?” The bald one was the one who spoke. They slid their now-empty mugs to the center of the table and stood up in front of Michael. “Yeah, quite fun that one was.”

                “The baby soft skin…” the short muscly tattooed one continued. “You know, it cuts like butter.” As he spoke, he pulled a knife out of his pocket and repeatedly opened and closed it.

                Michael’s face was turning dangerous shades of crimson. “Looks like his  _lover_ here is upset we beat up his boyfriend. How cute,” added the one who was trying to look nineteen. “Oh, look, he’s even got a girly little pony shirt on. This is fucking perfect.” They all erupted into laughter.

                Michael couldn’t get a hold of himself. “You mother _fuckers!”_  he yelled, and uppercut one of them in the chin, knocking him out immediately. Looking down, he saw it was the bald, bearded one. His mouth was slightly open when he hit the floor, and Michael could tell that he’d caused the man to bite his tongue hard enough to form a pool of blood in the back of his throat, which was dribbling down the side of his face. Someone from the crowd ran up and tipped him on his side, presumably to prevent him from choking.  _It’s nice to know people will help these sons of bitches when they need it, but not Gavin._

                Before he had time to think, the other two thugs surrounded him. The shorter one stood behind Michael and held his arms back, while the other kneed him in the groin with all his force, forcing a noise out of Michael’s throat that was a mixture of a groan and a scream. His arms were released, and he fell to his knees, trying not to throw up.

                “Not so tough now, are ya?” the shorter one snorted. Michael tried to stand up, but he was kicked in the stomach and pushed back to the ground. “Oh, leaving so soon, pony boy? We haven’t even been properly introduced. You see, I’m Charles. That there’s Tyler, and that poor fella you knocked to the ground, he’s John.  Now tell us,” he grabbed Michael’s chin and pulled it to the side until they were facing each other. “What’s your name?”  With the hand Charles wasn’t holding Michael’s head with, he was holding a knife above the redhead’s shoulder, which he rapidly stabbed in when Michael didn’t respond quick enough.

                “F… Fuck you, you fucking a… asshole.” Michael looked across the bar and saw Gavin. Seeing how terrified the man looked filled Michael with adrenaline, and he punched Charles  _hard_  in the center of his chest, causing him to fall backwards, the knife clattering to the floor. Michael stood up before Tyler had a chance to knock him down again. He avoided the next hit by grabbing Tyler’s wrist with his own right hand as it was swinging for him, and using his left to sock the last remaining thug in the side of the jaw, knocking him out as well. He looked back over at Gavin.

                “Micool! I can’t believe you did that!” The sandy-haired Brit immediately got up to run over to Michael, but just before he got there, his injured leg refused to support his weight. He fell forward into Michael’s arms, and grinned. Regaining his balance, he planted a quick kiss on Michael’s nose, causing Michael to blush. He grinned back, though, assuming it was just a reaction to what had just happened.

                The two of them walked back to Michael’s car together, with Gavin’s arm propped around Michael’s shoulders and Michael’s arm around Gavin’s upper back, leaning on each other for balance.

                “You didn’t have to do that, Micool.”

                “I know, Gav.” They looked at each other, and exchanged a stupid, toothy smile.

**Author's Note:**

> The names of the three people at the bar are in no way meant to resemble existing people, real or fictional.


End file.
